Michael T Heath Also Commented

I am outside religious channels – no pew can hold me, now. But I was quite the follower once upon a time, until that man who put his hands on me at a church-sponsored camp-over won that award the next day. ‘For Exemplary Leadership’ it was, and I backed away from both the back of the auditorium and the Church at once. I was sixteen.
My daughter was four when her mother committed suicide. Telling her that Carol was gone forever was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, wrenching my own torn heart as I watched a toddler swallow her breath and turn her face into my chest in silent agony. Although we weren’t church-goers, Emily had been brought up in a spiritual house. The death of her mother evoked a rage/divorce from The Creator by her, processed throughout her last 25 years into a hate/denial untouchable today. I don’t blame her, though I still believe. Just like love, betrayal is in the eye of the beholder, and what young girl who adores a parent and then loses them suddenly doesn’t hold mixed emotions?
I still pray, in my own way. I pray for understanding. I pray for help with life’s little disasters. And especially I pray for Emily – that the peace and love and commitment to my soul the Spirit gives me will one day reach her stony heart and pull the perceived dagger of betrayal from it for good, leaving her as free to choose to be a believer as I was way back at sixteen.

Recent Comments by Michael T Heath

She Could Love HerselfShawna Ayoub Ainslie catches me in the heart with this poignant prayer to herself. It’s not easy to contend with the doubts seeded by those closest – to “survive their rejection.” But she does, she does. Thank the spirits.

Writing My ScarsI survived the worst emotional trauma possible 25 years ago, and perhaps making it out of that rough patch helped recently when I dislocated (and fractured) both shoulders, then, just this winter, broke my back. Those physical nightmares were nothing: I had 3 months off from work for each incident. When Carol Coletti Heath shot herself, I barely took two weeks to heal. Things happen to us. We try to recover. Do not berate yourself for struggling to get past such trauma – be kind to you. As each year recedes, you’ll better frame your reactions couched in wisdom and experience – defying the nightmare scene you’ve been through and persevering in spite of it.

On Being (Not) WellThere are days, and there are days. Tripping over our own personal struggles, we are not aware of how nearly everyone else on Earth is grappling with their hardships – their demons. We gain the upper hand and calm our storms to see open sailing before us, right where we left off. The rumbling tumult that is our soul catches it’s breath, steadying our nerve and opening our hearts to clarity. From space, storms seem insignificant, minor things on a surface mostly sunlit and at peace. If we could look at ourselves from a distance we, too, would see our troubles in a context of happiness and community that easily outweigh the stresses over a lifetime. Hold strong: better days are nearby.

Someday I Will Be FearlessAmy Gigi Alexander isn’t afraid like she used to be. The horrors of a harsh childhood some distance away, she’s retooled her thinking and now shares the writing kept secret for so long. We are grateful, honored, touched. Keep writing – and sharing. It is the right thing to do and breaks the circle of silence: if they didn’t want their behavior made public they shouldn’t have acted with such abuse.

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Shawna Ayoub Ainslie

Shawna Ayoub Ainslie is a coach, writer and creator of online safe spaces for artists engaging issues of survivorship and social justice. The Honeyed Quill is her writing home. Find her here or facilitating #LinkYourLife every Friday on Twitter, and #LinkYourLife Connection, an artist support forum on Facebook.